To Make Him Happy
by AuthoressMegz
Summary: Naricssa and Lucius Malfoy live to make their son happy. Five-year-old Draco Malfoy's parents want to have a second child, completing their perfect pureblood family picture. Draco's reaction to the news, however, is not entirely what they were hoping for.


Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I am not J.K. Rowling and the characters you are about to read about do not belong to me. I will be making no money off this story and am writing this for no purpose other than that of pure entertainment.

Summary: Naricssa and Lucius Malfoy live to make their son happy. Five-year-old Draco Malfoy's parents want to have a second child, completing their perfect pureblood family picture. Narcissa is hoping for a girl, though the thought of another boy is not unappealing to her. Draco's reaction to the news is not exactly what she was hoping for however.

* * *

**To Make Him Happy**

"Lucius," Narcissa Malfoy said one day, running a hand down her husband's arm as he stood at the window overlooking the gardens where their five-year-old son played alone, his toes skimming the grass as he flew about on his newest toy broomstick. Nearby, a loyal house elf watched, ready to coddle and console - and, if all else failed, bring him to his parents - lest he hurt himself.

"Mm," the blonde man replied, a slight smile flickering over his face at his wife's touch. She pressed her lips against his shoulder and laced her fingers with his, leaning on him as they watched their boy below.

"He's quite the flier," Narcissa commented. She smiled when Lucius's arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer.

"Yes. We've made one hell of a boy," he agreed. Draco Malfoy, though only five years old, was handling his toy broom with inherent skill, taking sharp turns and zig-zagging across the lawn with obvious ease. The look of sharp concentration on his pointy little face only made him more attractive in Narcissa's opinion.

"Lucius," Narcissa began delicately, her fingers tapping on the top of his hand, which was still holding hers. He tore his gaze away from the scene below to meet her bright eyes. She was looking up at him with a mixture of love, lust and ... something else. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"What is it, darling?"

"I've been thinking," she started, only to stop at the smirk that crossed his face.

"A rare occurrence, I'm sure," he teased. She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the smile that turned up the corners of her mouth. Lucius and Narcissa both knew all too well that she spent to much time thinking these days, worrying and wondering and fretting. Lucius kept telling her she would go prematurely gray if she didn't stop.

"I'm sorry, love, I interrupted. You've been thinking. About what this time, may I ask?"

"Draco is a wonderful boy, we agree," she said, her eyes searching for him to concur. He inclined his head in agreement. "But he seems awfully lonely, dear."

Lucius gazed over her head at their son again. He'd grown bored of his broom and was now attempting to scale a nearby tree with little success. He was standing at the base of it, staring upward in annoyance after his third failed attempt to jump and grab the lowest branch.

"He does spend quite a bit of time alone, yes," Lucius agreed. He looked back down at his wife, trying to decipher where she was going with this conversation. Her eyes gave nothing away as they watched him probingly.

"Perhaps he needs...a little...someone to run around with," she suggested cautiously. Lucius frowned thoughtfully.

"I suppose. I could always speak with Nott - he could bring little Theodore over more often," Lucius said, nodding to himself.

"Well, yes, that could be good for him," Narcissa agreed hesitantly, "though not _precisely_ what I meant..."

Lucius's eyes snapped back down to hers. He was growing tired of this game.

"What is it you want, Narcissa? Just say it."

"A daughter."

Lucius was so surprised he physically backed away from her. They had never discussed having more than one child - they had never even really discussed having one child, other than knowing an heir would need to be produced, and when Draco was born, the perfect son, they'd had no need to think of children any longer.

"Why?" Lucius asked, his lip curling slightly. Narcissa ignored it and tossed her hair.

"Why not, Lucius? Draco would have a little playmate and we'd have _two_ perfect children. Think of what a beautiful family we'd be," she said, walking toward him again. He didn't move as her arms encircled his waist.

"I've always wanted a little girl," she whispered, standing on tiptoe and brushing her lips against his ear. He shivered.

"You never told me that," he breathed back, his hands resting on her hips as her arms snaked around his neck.

"You never asked." She pressed her lips against the base of his ear, running her fingers through his hair. His eyes closed as he turned to catch her mouth with his.

"Mother? Father?"

Lucius and Narcissa stepped away from each other immediately. Draco walked in, his shoes slightly scuffed, the bottoms of his robes fraying from being walked on - Narcissa made a mental note to call a seamstress - his hair windblown from flying. Under his arm he carried his toy broom, which was really getting to be too small for him. She'd have to find a bigger model for his Christmas present, perhaps one that would let him fly just a little bit higher as he knew he longed to do.

"Draco, how was your flight?" Narcissa asked, caressing his cheek as he came to a stop in front of her.

"Alright, though it would be more fun if I could fly without my feet dragging on the ground," he said pointedly. Narcissa suppressed a smile and squeezed his shoulder.

"Christmas is only a few months away, darling."

Draco's disgruntled expression melted into a heartbreakingly beautiful smile at that.

"I'm getting a new broom for Christmas?" he asked excitedly, grabbing her hand and tugging on it slightly in his enthusiasm. She gently pried his fingers loose and freed her hand before smiling at him.

"Perhaps."

"A real one?" he asked hopefully. She loved the way his eyes lit up when he looked at her that way. She spent much of her time striving to make him happy just to see his face as it was now.

"Not yet, son," Lucius chuckled, ruffling his son's hair. Draco ducked away with a reproachful glare. Narcissa knew how much he hated having his hair mussed. "In a couple more years, we'll talk about it."

"But Theodore Nott has his own broom," Draco pouted.

"No, he doesn't. He's just trying to one-up you," Lucius assured him.

"He lied to me?" Draco asked, looking indignant. The expression would have suited an eleven- or twelve-year-old perhaps, but Narcissa found the look on his face almost comical for a five-year-old. Not that she'd ever tell him that.

"People lie, son. Get used to it," Lucius said bluntly. Lucius and Narcissa often differed on the best way to raise Draco. Lucius had a no-nonsense, no coddling approach on it that Narcissa often felt was much too harsh. If she had her way, Draco would never be denied anything that would make him happy, and he'd live in a world where there was no such thing as bad or pain or evil.

Due to their many compromises, Draco was a spoiled child with a somewhat negative outlook on the world. Lucius had made sure his son would have no misgivings that the world was not a fair, kind or happy place, but because he was born a pureblood to two of the most respected and noble houses in wizard history, he didn't have to worry, because he would always live comfortably and have everything he needed.

"Mother," Draco said, turning to the more lenient of his two parents, "why can't I have a real broom? I'm almost _six_."

"Broomsticks are dangerous, Draco," Narcissa told him gently.

"I'm _not_ stupid, Mother. I know how to fly."

"You're very intelligent, dear. I was not insinuating that you were not. But you need proper lessons before getting your own broomstick."

"So teach me!" the five-year-old snapped, stamping his foot.

"Draco, don't speak to your mother that way," Lucius admonished. Draco turned to look at him, two pink spots on his cheeks the only indication that he was upset at being first denied what he wanted, then reprimanded for his reaction.

"In the spring we will get you an instructor and you can begin proper flying lessons," Lucius informed him. Draco looked completely shocked for a moment before an enormous grin spread across his small face.

"_Thank you!" _he shouted, throwing his arms around his father's waist and hugging him fiercely. Over his head, Narcissa smiled approvingly.

-o-o-o-

"Have you given any thought to what we talked about earlier?" Narcissa asked much later as she and Lucius were getting ready for bed. Draco had been tucked in still babbling about how he would one day become a famous Quidditch player because he was going to have such a great instructor and be the best flier anyone had ever seen. Narcissa had kissed his forehead, and he'd grinned at her.

"I love you, Mummy," he'd whispered as he drifted off. It was almost enough to bring tears to Narcissa's eyes - he hadn't called her 'Mummy' in over three years.

"I love you too, Draco," she'd whispered back, kissing him one more time. He'd fallen asleep with an angelic smile on his face. Narcissa wanted to remember that moment forever.

"Draco's flying instructor?" Lucius was asking now, pulling off his robes. "I figured it would be better to start in the spring so he had all summer-"

"Not that, Lucius," Narcissa interrupted patiently. She sat down beside him on the bed, running a hand up his leg, and his eyes flashed up to meet hers.

"Oh."

"Wouldn't you like a daughter as perfect as your son? Our family portraits would be _beautiful_," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. The side of his mouth quirked up slightly. He wasn't used to his wife trying to seduce him. It was usually the other way around.

"The image is rather appealing," he admitted with a smirk. He leaned in to capture his wife's lips with his own only to stop suddenly as a thought occurred to him.

"Though I'm not sure the idea of waking up every two hours for months on end is as attractive."

"House elves, live-in nannies, Bellatrix," Narcissa replied dismissively. She'd already considered that part.

"Your sister will not be babysitting our daughter," Lucius said firmly. Narcissa smiled in amusement for a moment before his words sank in. Then her returning smile was so beautiful he couldn't help but smile back.

"You're saying yes?" she asked softly, her eyes shining with hope in an expression not dissimilar to one their son often wore. Lucius could hardly say no when she looked at him like that.

"Yes."

The couple fell into bed, lips locked, arms entwined, completely lost in their passion and image of the perfect family they would create.

-o-

"Why are you so happy?" Draco grumbled several mornings later as he sat in his pajamas, picking at his breakfast. Lucius never allowed Draco to lounge about in anything but proper robes, but as he was out of the house today on Ministry business, Narcissa had decided to indulge her son.

He was apparently ungrateful, though Narcissa didn't even notice.

"Your father and I have been getting along better than usual," she answered with a slight smirk. 'Getting along' was one way of putting it, she thought to herself. More like 'having mind-blowing sex every night with the intent to conceive a second child.' Though of course it would be unbecoming of a Malfoy to ever say such a sentence aloud.

"Why?" Draco asked suspiciously. His parents normally got along quite well in his opinion, with only rare bickering fits that usually ended as quickly as he entered the room. So to see both of them with such serene expressions all the time was only slightly disconcerting, but odd nonetheless.

"Draco," Narcissa said, sitting down across from him and looking at him imploringly. He met her gaze with expectantly. "What would you think of having a little sister? Or brother," she added as an afterthought, knowing it was a possibility. She suddenly imagined a second perfect blonde boy, trailing after his big brother through the garden with a toy broom under his arm. She was surprised to find she liked the image almost as much as that of a little girl.

"What?" Draco asked, dropping his fork in surprise. It clattered onto his plate loudly, and a house elf appeared at the doorway to see if there was a mess to clean up. "You're going to have a baby?"

"Hopefully," Narcissa answered, beaming at him. He did not return the sentiment. Instead, he scowled fiercely.

"No," he said, sitting back and crossing his arms. She blinked him in surprise and sat back as well.

"No?" she asked incredulously.

"No," he echoed. "I _don't_ want a brother or sister. I don't want you to have a baby. I don't want some smelly little kid crying all the time. You and Father are _my_ parents! This is _my_ house, that's _my_ garden, _my _bedroom, _my _toys. I'm not going to share them with some stupid baby," he said, standing up abruptly. He glared at her for a moment longer before rushing around the table and throwing his arms around her, his expression crumpling.

"I don't want you to have a baby!" he wailed. "You're _my_ mummy!"

"Shh, Draco," Narcissa soothed him, rubbing his back gently. "It's okay. Mummy won't have a baby," she whispered, sadness flooding through her as the image of her perfect daughter - or second son - faded away.

"You won't?" Draco asked, lifting his head to look at her with worried eyes. She shook her head. "Promise?" She nodded sadly.

"Good!" he exclaimed, hugging her quickly. Then he backed up and looked into her face, scrutinizing it. She quickly rearranged her expression into a smile for him.

"I love you, Draco," she told him, leaning down and kissing his cheek. He squirmed away, but looked pleased as he stepped back from her.

"I love you too, Mother," he said.

Narcissa gave him a genuine smile. She truly loved her son. And if Draco did not want her to have a second child, then she wouldn't. After all, she lived to make him happy.

* * *

A/N: Isn't Draco a brat? I got this idea after reading an AU fic in which six-year-old Harry Potter is introduced to six-year-old Draco Malfoy and Draco informs Harry in no uncertain terms that everything in the Malfoy Manor is _his_ and Harry had best not try to steal it away. It's also loosely based on the true story of how my best friend reacted when she was about five and her parents were considering having a second child.

Tell me what you think! Reviews make me happy. :)

Thanks for reading.

-Megan


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